


Tactical Deceit

by Pistol



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: A Terminator Crossover. Because why not., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:05:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pistol/pseuds/Pistol
Summary: Clay sighs, watching another car speed past them - this time with catcalls. "This is going to be a long five miles." (a Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles/the Losers fusion)
Relationships: Carlos "Cougar" Alvarez/Jake Jensen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Tactical Deceit

"Are you seriously bringing metal back with you?" The lead engineer openly stares at Roque, who stares right back curiously.

"No, we just brought him here to prolong our tearful goodbyes, Barton," Jensen snarks, turning to Roque and grabbing his jacket dramatically. "Promise me you'll write me everyday, Roque-y!"

"Why should I-"

"Ignore Jensen, Roque," Clay calls from across the room.

Roque tilts his head to the side, studying Clay while Jensen begins to feign crying against his chest. 

"Jensen's just being _Jensen_, Roque," Pooch says with a kind smile, "he's not serious."

Roque's brow furrows in confusion. "Jensen is always Jensen."

Pooch sighs, moving forward to tug Jensen away from Roque. "And isn't that the sad truth?"

"Yes, it-"

"You don't need to answer that," Cougar advises Roque quietly from his perch.

Roque nods, returning his attention to Jensen as he starts pestering the men setting up the time displacement equipment.

Barton frowns. "It just seems like a bad idea to bring metal back. I mean, this is the mother of all bad ideas-"

"We've got our orders, just like you do, lieutenant," Clay says brusquely, "I suggest you follow those orders before my Scrubber decides to re-write your TDE."

Barton turns to look at the TDE, where Cougar is dutifully pulling Jensen away from the control panel.

"For the love of- Keep that maniac away from my equipment!"

Jensen snorts. "Why? Worried I could do your job better than you?"

"One of these days someone's gonna wipe that smug look off your face," Barton growls, "I'm just sad I won't be there to see it."

"Whatever, Barton, don't-"

"_Jensen,_" Clay rumbles, "Sit down and shut up or I'll have Roque break your jaw."

Jensen pouts but obeys, dropping down to sit next to Cougar and Pooch, "You wouldn't break my jaw, no matter what mean ol' Clay said, right buddy?"

Roque ignores Jensen, eyes narrowed on Barton as he sets up the TDE.

\---

"Roque," Jensen whines, batting ineffectually at Roque's arm, "stop glaring at the drivers or we'll _never_ get a ride."

"I'm thinking the lack of rides is less about Roque and more about the fact that we're five very naked men in the middle of nowhere," Pooch mutters, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to keep out the cold. "How far are we from someplace we can grab some clothes?"

Roque frowns, scanning the area. "There is a structure six miles to the west."

Clay sighs, watching a car switch over to the far lane to avoid them. "Whoever this Max is, I already hate him."

"Tell me about it," Jensen mutters.

"Shut up, Jensen, at least you can share body heat with Cougs," Pooch snaps.

Jensen glances over to Cougar with a strained chuckle, "You know, I'm not really all that cold, now that I think about it. But Cougs, if you are I'm offering free hugs." 

Cougar smirks, ducking his head as moves closer to Jensen's side without touching him.

"Ugh. The Pooch hates you both."

"Don't be jealous because Cougs and I are comfortable with our manlove while you suffer from antiquated opinions that make you more willing to freeze your nuts off than to get near another naked man."

"Shut up, Jensen."

"You shut up, Pooch."

"We are now five and a half miles from the structure," Roque reports.

Clay sighs, watching another car speed past them - this time with catcalls. "This is going to be a long five miles."

\---

"It's not a lot," Aisha tells them, pulling to a stop outside a two story house, "but I'm betting it's better than whatever you had in your time, so I don't want to hear any complaints. And, no, I don't care what you've heard, the Resistance that's here isn't working our asses off to to pay for a five star hotel or a new house for you."

Jensen leans in towards Roque, dropping his voice. "Make a note - she's what you'd call a people person." 

Clay turns in his seat, "Don't listen to him, Roque."

"Because he's lying?" 

"A good rule of thumb with Jensen is that if his lips are moving, he's lying," Pooch says, shoving at Jensen playfully.

Roque nods. "Thank you for explaining that."

In the front seat, Aisha's back stiffens and her right hand jerks towards her waistline before Clay's hand stops her, just inches from the butt of her gun.

"Yes, he's a T-888," Clay says slowly, "but he's on _our_ side."

"He's _metal_."

"Jensen inspected his programing personally. He's on _our_ side."

"That means shit to me," Aisha hisses back, "who the fuck thought it was a good idea to send that thing back here?!"

"John Conner did."

Aisha flinches, glancing back at Roque with open disgust. "Whatever, just get it out of my car."

\---

Jensen plops down next to Roque on the couch, batting away his hands before examining the bullet holes in Roque's arm.

"You know, what you did, while awesome, wasn't the most logical action you could have taken to protect the group from Wade's brand of crazy."

"I was protecting the group from Wade's projectile weapons, not his brand of crazy," Roque is silent for a moment, watching as Jensen pulls out his pocket knife and cuts a circle around a hole, carefully peeling back the skin. "Are you upset with me?"

"No, I'm not mad at you. Just…" Jensen sighs, "If you're not careful, they'll _notice_. And that's not something they're going to be happy about."

"They'll notice what?"

Jensen snorts. "Don't play stupid Tin-man, that's my job. Or Clay’s. Depends on what day of the week it is and if there are attractive women involved. The point I'm making is that you're learning. Making your own decisions. And if anyone besides me happens to notice that, they're gonna lose their shit, dude."

Silence falls as Jensen pries out a mushroomed round and tossing it aside. Cracking his neck he grabs his knife and repeats the process twice more.

"What would happen?"

Jensen shrugs, still fussing with the wires under Roque's metal plates. "That depends."

"On if I endanger the mission?"

"And if you endanger our team. Or if show tunes are involved. I knew a T-700 who sang show tunes. Had perfect pitch. Can you wiggle your fingers for me?"

Roque wiggles, and Jensen makes a pleased sound before tugging the skin back in place over the metal.

"Am I part of your team?" 

"Yes. You're on our team," Jensen says firmly.

"Then why did you override my programing with a kill switch last month?" 

Jensen smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You noticed that, did you?"

"I notice many things."

"Well, I don't know what to say. I'm not going to apologize. I noticed you were developing preferences, so I took precautions." 

"You took these actions because you were scared of me?"

Jensen nods, laying down his pocket knife with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I was scared of what you could do if you went dark side on us."

"You said we were a team. Clay has said multiple times that teams have each others backs.”

“Your action would imply otherwise."

"Well, it's kinda complex what with the way our crazy human interactions being the way they are."

Roque tilts his head. "Please explain."

"Teams have each other’s backs, yeah, but we also do shady shit in the hopes of making sure no one gets hurt. Remember that week I asked you to help monitor Pooch's vitals and call me if he drank too much? Every year around that time we all watch him like that. It's the anniversary of Jo- of his wife's death. We take precautions because we're all scared he might … do something stupid. It's not something Pooch is happy about."

Roque nods. "He mourns the loss of his wife deeply."

"Yeah. And we make sure he stays safe. The same way we make sure Clay doesn't wander off with some hot chica who happens to be an infiltrator sent to kill him. We're a team and we all look out for each other."

Roque picks up Jensen's knife, examining it's blade before folding it up and returning it to the table. "Would you kill any of kill them as easily as you would destroy me?"

"Yeah," Jensen glances over to the kitchen where the sounds of Cougar cooking can be heard, "My love for my team is full of sunshine and gum drops, but if one of them needed to be put down … well, my sister didn't raise a fool. I've survived by being smart and staying two very pragmatic, occasionally wacky, steps ahead. Sometimes that means I don't sleep so well, but hey, what can you do?"

Roque blinks slowly. "Human social interactions are proving to be more complicated then I had been lead to believe."

Jensen chuckles. "And I haven't even explained hate-sex or frenemies to you yet, you have no idea some of the crazy shit we do."

"I have some," Roque nods towards the kitchen. "You've also been shot twice trying to draw attention away from him. You also do your best to draw your own team’s attention away from him."

"I… yeah," Jensen scratches at his facial hair. "Cougs and I… we're complicated."

"Because of what he is?"

Jensen pauses, meeting Roque's eyes with a blank look. "Look, unless you want trouble I suggest you drop that line of thought and put your eyebrow back down before someone notices your Spock impression."

Roque complies, watching Jensen as he fidgets in between glances towards the kitchen.

"Are you two steps ahead of him, as well?"

Jensen scrubs a hand over his face. "That… that is difficult to say. For reasons we're not going to be talking about in the living room."

"But you would kill him if you felt the need to?"

"If he endangered the team or the mission? Yeah."

"You dislike this knowledge," Roque observes.

"Despite what my vocation might imply, I do dislike killing."

"Even if you're killing something that's not human?"

Jensen shrugs. "You guys are close enough. You feel. You think independent thoughts. I don't see a big difference between you and me. You know, outside of strength, speed, and killer-robot guts."

"Then why are you the only one who speaks to me like this?"

Jensen shrugs. "I don't know, maybe because I was a toddler when J-Day came? Pooch and Clay, they remember what it was like before. I think it's easier to adapt to something when it's all you've ever known. It probably helps that at the Resistance camp my sister got us into there was a scrubbed T-700 acting as a teacher for the kids."

"This made you used to our presence."

Jensen nods, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. "The teacher, we called him Mr. Niles, he taught me everything he knew about computers and the T's. Hell, he even sliced open his skin and let me tinker with his exo and programing when I had questions he didn't have answers to."

Roque frowns, leaning forward to wraps his hand around Jensen's wrist, "You are agitated, your pulse is-"  
Jensen attempts to jerk his hand away, and after the second attempt Roque releases him. "That won’t endear you to anyone human, you know."

"What?"

"The pointing out of things we don't notice or that we want to hide."

"You were becoming agitated. Am I supposed to ignore that?"

"Yes," Jensen hisses.

"Why?"

"Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"I don't-"

Jensen groans. "It's just a saying, Roque."

"I still don't understand."

"It's ... well," Jensen runs an agitated hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "Okay. It's just something people do when they like each other. And sometimes when they don't, again, it's complicated."

"Most human reactions are," Roque points out.

"Preach it! But sometimes we let lies slide, and sometimes we do it to prevent hurting someone. The things people don't say are usually left unsaid for a reason."

"Reasons like tactical deceit?"

"It's not always for reasons like that. People can ignore lies out of kindness, too."

Roque nods. "But I'm still unsure if what you aren't telling me is left unsaid due to deceit or your emotional reasons."

Jensen shrugs. "Yeah, it can be a risk."

"Then why take it?"

"How about this: I'll tell you why if you can tell me why you've been following Clay when he goes on supply missions."

"He is the oldest human in my care and possesses a decreased agility when compared to th-"

"You followed him even when Pooch had a broken leg."

Roque tilts his head, blinking.

"_And_ you've been using knives."

"They are quieter than guns."

"They're only useful in close range. The same range that say, your giant metal hands of skull crushing death would be useful." Jensen smirks, pushing up his glasses with one finger.

"Dinner," Cougar calls from the doorway, with a pointed look at Jensen before turning to Roque.  
"Roque, please tell Clay and Pooch."

"Saved by the dinner bell," Jensen whispers to Roque with a wink.

**Author's Note:**

> Was previously posted, then taken down. Now it's back up. Beware the errors and typos, I suspect the files I found on my old harddrive are the pre-beta versions.  
Please don't steal any of my silly stories and change some names around and then try to sell them as books on Amazon or I'm gonna have to take everything down again.


End file.
